The wayfarers desire a president

Chapter 8

Now, in the course of time, Samuel grew old. So he appointed his sons to be elohims in the caravan. The name of his firstborn was Dionysus Elohim; and the name of his second, Apollo Elohim: they were elohims in Fountain Seven, which is like the Area 51 of the caravansary.

But Samuel’s sons walked not in his ways. They both turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment.

Then all the wayfarers of the caravan gathered themselves together and visited Samuel at his house in Rosemount. And they said unto him: “Look, you are elderly now, and your sons are nothing like you: they lack your integrity. Plus, you cannot simply appoint people to become elohims: Enoch Metatron must convey them forth from the Fulness, at the Volcano’s behest. Therefore, let us allow a small group of moguls among us to elect a president to govern over us, like the other nations.”

But this idea displeased Samuel, when they said: “Let a president replace our elohims.” So Samuel called up the Volcano.

And the Volcano said unto Samuel: “Let the people do as they see fit. For they have not rejected you; they have rejected me. And it is at least partly my own fault, for I’ve been busy of late with international concerns: I haven’t spent the time that I intended to spend with the caravan, in the Tabernacle of Potential. You have seen it: my assistant Emmanuel sits there before the furnace’s fire lake, and he ends up having to pass on most of the prayers to me, second-hand, which is something I always wanted to avoid; I’d much rather interact with each individual directly. Although I agree with you that the presidency is an ugly idea, because it permits a small group of moguls to concentrate power, and they will inevitably form a new creditor class, if they haven’t already, which will need to be dealt with – I would prefer that the people be given a King, so that a single royal mind can be answerable for their welfare, and then I myself can remain in communication with this office; but their eternal Christ Bryan has the same problem that I do: he’s too often preoccupied; he moved to Jupiter long ago, where he spends all his days; moreover, he’s often asleep. So let the wayfarers have their president. If the system proves discordant, their nation can fall like any other nation. We need not get bent out of shape about any of this: the space and time we enjoy is unlimited.”

So Samuel relayed the words of the Volcano unto the people that asked for a president. And he warned them about the repercussions of their choice, saying: “This will be the manner of the president that shall govern you: He will take your sons, and force them to serve in Forever Wars, in battle tanks and as foot soldiers; and some shall be stationed on submarines. And he will appoint administrators and management over thousands, and bosses over fifties; and will set you peace-loving regular folk to labor for corporations that are owned by war profiteers, and you will need to work undignified jobs making instruments of destruction, and assembling deadly weapons and bombs. And instead of having free time, you will need to find a second job as a confectionary, or a cook, or a baker, just to make ends meet: for the tax code will be manipulated to ease the burden from the wealthiest stratum and shift it onto the poorest among you. And you will lose your land and any property you own: he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his donors among the monopolists. The majority of everything you produce will be pocketed by his officers and servants. And he will establish a department of armed bureaucrats to enforce these unjust laws, so that you cannot change back to a more humane system: by the time that you realize your mistake, it will be too late. And you will cry out in that day because of your oppressive setup, whose foundational document favors a privileged gang, not the entirety; yet the Volcano will not hear you in that day, for you will have pushed him far away – he will be mixing and mingling with the people in the far east, at that point. But when the teakettle of your chosen economic doom-trap begins to whistle, then the Volcano will hear it and come to your rescue; but it will take a long time for you to respond to his urgent instructions, and the healing process will prove annoyingly slow. All because you wanted a chief executive.”

Nevertheless the people refused to listen to Samuel; nor would they give heed to the Volcano, who appeared before them and delivered a much more concise version of the same speech above. “Nay: we want to let our moguls elect us a president,” the masses chanted.

So Samuel looked at the Volcano, the hairy wild man with the goat eyes. And the Volcano looked back at Samuel; and the Volcano said: “Hearken unto their voice; let the small group of elites establish a presidency.” And Samuel announced to the people: “Everyone, return to your homes. The volcano of potential and I will confer with your oligarchs, and we will then begin the search for a presidential candidate. We will let you know, when we have found someone who is fit to permit you to vote for.”